Idle Hands are Errant Hands
by AlphaMonkey
Summary: Ten days. Crammed into the hold of a ship. With your sister. Who happens to be an aggressive snuggler. Maker's Breath, this can only end one way: in tears.


She was grateful to be alive, grateful to be away from the Blight, the Darkspawn, all of it.

But that didn't mean that the past few days had been anything but difficult. She'd lost her home, she'd lost her brother, and now she and the tattered remains of her family were crammed into the dank, dreary, -dingy- hold of a ship, en route to a place she'd only heard tales about. It was a ship constantly being tossed about by storms, and that reeked of human filth brought about by weeks of too-close contact.

"Augggh, I don't think I can take much more of this, Aveline. How much longer do you think it'll be until we get there?"

The fair-skinned, red-haired warrior sat with her back pressed against the musty smelling wood of the hull, her knees huddled against her chest. She eased her head slowly to the side, trying to work out a crick in her neck. "Hopefully not too much longer. I'm getting restless myself. A problem, it seems, your older sister doesn't share."

Bethany snorted and rolled her eyes. Passed out on the floorboards next to her was Marian, dead asleep, her short, tousled, black hair falling across her eyes, her mouth hanging open in a faint snore. "I don't know how she does it, but she's always been able to sleep through anything. Do you remember that one summer with all the thunderstorms? When the Janner family lost their barn to a lightning strike?"

Aveline nodded.

"I couldn't sleep that night. It sounded like the thunder was right over our house the whole night. Every time it boomed, I could swear everything in the house rattled. Kept me wide awake. But not Carver. He was sawing logs in the next room. Could hear him through the walls. And Marian?" She mimicked her snoozing sister's pose, complete with open mouth and lolling tongue.

The two women shared a quick chuckle at the sleeping woman's expense, before Aveline leaned forward, folding her arms across her knees and resting her head on them. "Well, maybe we should follow her example and try to get some sleep. Not much else to do around here, anyway." She snorted.

"Ugh. I know. Good night, Aveline," Bethany said with a sigh.

"And you."

* * *

><p>Her father had trained her extensively in the various disciplines of magic. She knew how to use it to defend herself, how to use it to destroy her enemies, how to use it to protect her friends and heal the wounded. But Malcolm had never taught her how to ease the pain of a sore back caused by sleeping on the floor of a ship's hold for a tenday.<p>

Bethany groaned and did her best to stretch out her cramped muscles in the limited room she had. Her arms protested as she twisted and contorted, and little twinges of pain shot up from her hips all the way to her shoulders as she tried to work the kinks out of her joints. Eventually, the pain subsided, and with a sigh of relief, she let herself sag back to the floorboards, turning onto her side and reaching under her head to adjust the cloak she'd been using as a pillow.

That was when she felt the hand on her hip.

At first she thought it was that unseemly lecher from Gwaren – the one who'd been eyeing her up ever since she'd come aboard, but she couldn't imagine his touch being quite so… gentle.

She turned her head to look over her shoulder, and felt her jaw drop open.

"Marian. What are you -doing?-"

"Hrrrrnnnffffnn…"

Bethany felt her sister's chin nuzzle up against the back of her neck, and she tensed up immediately, back arching like a spooked cat ready to bolt.

They'd shared a bedroom before, even shared a bed when they were children and circumstances (i.e. running from the Templars) had necessitated it, but this was something completely different. Her first instinct was simply to elbow Marian in the ribs and get her to roll over, but she couldn't do that. Her poor sister had led their flight from Lothering, always at the front of the group, always in harm's way. She'd slept the least of all of them, volunteering for extra watches so the others could get their rest, and only now was she actually managing to catch up on some badly needed sleep.

"Mmmmmmgggghhh…"

If only that "badly needed sleep" didn't involve such aggressive snuggling.

Bethany bit back an exasperated sigh as one of Marian's hands started to glide up her side. She bit her -tongue- as that hand happily settled itself just underneath her breasts. But when it started to edge up even further, that was when she decided she'd had enough.

She hissed under her breath. "Marian. Stoppit."

"Nnnnnnnnmmmnnn… cuddly."

She ground her teeth together. "I know I'm cuddly, but- oh, -bother.-"

Clearly, sterner measures were required. The next time Marian's hand started to drift, she seized it firmly with one of her own, linking their fingers together and completely immobilizing that wayward hand so it couldn't get into any trouble. "Hmph. There we are," she muttered to herself, finally content that the crisis had been averted.

That was, until her sister's thumb began to affectionately stroke her knuckles.

"You've got to be kidding me."

The eldest scion of the Hawke family most certainly was not kidding, and as her thumb ran gently over the lightly calloused skin of Bethany's fingers, her other hand had taken up a vigil over the younger woman's stomach.

At first, the touches were hesitant, almost inquisitive, but soon, Marian's fingers realized just what treasure lay hidden underneath that thin layer of clothing, and they began to poke and prod in earnest, questing for a seam or some other way past fabric in search of bare skin.

"Maker's -Breath,- will you -stop?-" Bethany groused, trying to find some way to dodge those overly curious fingers that had taken up residence over her belly button, but no matter how much she squirmed, she couldn't seem to shake them loose. Worse yet, those fingers had somehow managed to slip beneath her tunic and even now were drawing lazy little circles around her navel.

"Mmmmmmmmnnn… tummy…"

Whatever response Bethany might have had to that woefully obvious sentiment was cut off as her sister's fingers soon found her ribs. Soft, warm, and frighteningly… knowledgeable fingertips began gliding over each one, as if deliberately counting them, and she had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from giggling – she was _dreadfully_ ticklish.

She managed to hold back the laughter, but the faint cooing noise that managed to work its way past her lips instead came as a surprise even to her. She stiffened as she realized exactly what it was she'd just done, and a muttered curse was the next thing to make its way to her lips. "Bollocks."

"Bethany? Is something wrong?"

The mage's eyes snapped wide open and she cast her gaze about the interior of the ship's hold. It was practically pitch black. And quiet, too, except for the roar of the sea and the crash of waves against the hull. There was the sound of her heart pounding and she could swear the rasping of her breath was loud enough to wake the dead as well, but in all likelihood she was just imagining those last parts.

Her eyes eventually fell upon Aveline. The other woman was in the same position she'd been in when she'd fallen asleep, head down, still pillowed on her arms, but Bethany was sure she'd spoken.

"Aveline?"

"Yes, I'm awake. I thought I heard you stirring. Is everything all right?"

It was at that moment that Marian's hand chose to begin a very through examination of her stomach – of the soft skin and firm muscle that lay underneath. She bit back the gasp that would've given her away and willed her sister's hands to cease their treachery. It didn't work. "I'm… fine… just… having trouble sleeping."

"If you're sure…"

"I'm… p-positive…" She nearly bit a hole in her bloody tongue as those naughty little fingers continued drifting across her skin, making her heart race. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down the small of her back, and she shivered at the delightfully prickly sensation even as she cursed her older sibling for bringing it about in the first place. "Go back to sleep."

It felt like an eternity until she heard Aveline's breathing settle into a steady rhythm, and by then, Bethany's predicament had, of course, taken on an additional wrinkle: there was now a thigh draped across hers.

She wanted to scream.

She settled for digging her fingernails into her palm so forcefully she almost drew blood. The words escaped her as a fierce whisper. "Andraste's flaming knickers, WHY?"

That was it. Enough was enough. She'd wanted to allow her sister the chance to get some rest, to repay her for all she'd done protecting them during their escape from Ferelden, but this was starting to get ridiculous. She had to find some way to fight back. She raised her head just long enough to take another look about the hold. As far as she could tell, everyone was still dead asleep, oblivious to the world. She envied them that, but it was her hope that soon she could join them.

Normally, she would never dream of attempting anything so risky, but times were desperate. That hand was becoming… bolder. More distressing, she was becoming less and less inclined to remove it. Not that… not that she really _wanted_ it there, but… but Marian's fingers were so… skillful. And she did so love a good stomach rub…

_No. NO. Stay strong._

She took a deep breath, held it, let it out slowly, then did it again. In and out, over and over, just like her father had taught her when she was a child. It was a breathing exercise he'd made her practice to help her calm her mind, help her control her emotions. Magic was volatile – made worse by an agitated mind, he'd always said, and she'd taken the lesson to heart. She felt the tension just bleed away as she concentrated on her breathing, on the rise and fall of her chest, on the… on the-

_She's NIBBLING on my earlobe!_

That was the straw that broke the halla's back, or however the phrase went. Not caring who saw, she conjured up a tiny lick of flame about the size of a marble. And she held it like one, between her thumb and forefinger, exercising such fine control over the magic that it didn't burn her. In fact, she couldn't even really feel the heat from it. With her free hand, she eased Marian's fingers from beneath her tunic. Her sister made a little whine of protest, but Bethany stood firm, finally ridding herself of the little pest. She laid Marian's palm open in front of her and carefully eased the miniature ball of fire into the middle of it then firmly clenched the other woman's fingers tight around it.

"Yeow!"

Next to her, she felt Marian suddenly sit upright in alarm, heard her shifting about as she turned her head from side to side, searching the darkened hold in total confusion for whatever had singed her hand.

But nothing else in the hold was stirring and her search proved futile, and eventually she gave the whole thing up as fruitless. She lay back down and grumbled, cradling her stinging hand against her side. "Bethany?" she whispered into the darkness. "Beth?"

The mage pointedly ignored her, pretending to be asleep, and in another minute, she _was_ asleep.

She had no further trouble with incidental groping that evening.

* * *

><p>The Hawke family, with one Aveline Vallen in tow, found themselves on the deck of the ship the next morning, all four women glad to be out of the cramped lower hold and getting some fresh sea air. The eldest of the four doted over her two daughters as usual. "How did you two sleep?" Leandra asked.<p>

Despite the dreadful conditions they'd all had to face over the past week or so, Bethany was all smiles. "Like a baby."

Her older sister Marian, however, was sporting a frown. And a ragged bandage wrapped over one of her hands. "I think I burned my hand on something."

"That's odd," Bethany said with a shrug. "Maybe one of the oil lamps spilled onto your hand."

Marian's frown deepened. "There are no oil lamps in the hold."

The mage shrugged again, capering to the portside rail and flinging her arms out over it as she took in a deep breath of crisp, clean air. "Well, then, I have no idea."


End file.
